"I LOVE the way the French celebrate these fêtes. There's a real joie de vivreto them," says Carol Murray, a young Irishwoman living on the port of Nice, "and what's wonderful is that they bring their children too. There's nothing like it in Ireland."
It's August 15th, the feast of the Assumption, a national holiday in France, and here in Nice, one of the most important ports in the country, the old seafaring traditions of music, religious celebration, procession, and a drink offered by the Mayor are still as strong as ever.
A mood of sacred tradition and festival has been building since early afternoon. A light sea breeze ruffles the blue-green water as creamy tufts of cotton cloud spread across a Mediterranean sky as blue as a Raphael Madonna.
By mid-afternoon a traditional nine-piece band is playing on a newly erected stage on the west quay just in front of the old custom house, replacing the mix of popular hits that had been roaring from the port loudspeakers. The band is still playing when horns sound at 5.45 for the procession to begin.
Suddenly, a freshly painted red-and-white fishing boat, just big enough to hold a life-size statue of Our Lady plus boatman Alfred Gasparini with his two grandchildren, moves into the centre of the port. Gasparini, his smile as wide as a wave, is soon surrounded by a mini-armada of small, colourful craft, all brightly decked in huge bouquets of lilies, daisies and lilacs, amid flapping pennants and banners in red, white and blue. All the boatmen wear the traditional white with a light blue sash tied at the waist.
In an almost orderly fashion - delightfully unusual for the French - Gasparini leads the flotilla out past the giant yachts moored majestically on the west quay, past the lively Irish pub Ma Nolan's, overlooking the rows of fishing boats and pleasure craft on the east quay, past the Corsica car ferry, and back to its mooring.
The statue is then heaved from the boat on to the strong shoulders of two bearers. In a stylish French touch, a newly-laid blue carpet lines the quay for the 200-metre procession, headed by the parish priest Père Schoepff, to the altar for the open-air Mass.
"We set out a thousand chairs on the quay," the head of the organising committee tells me, "and there are still over 500 people left standing," she says, surveying the eclectic mix of ladies in light summer dresses or shorts, casually dressed men, young people, children, dignitaries, tourists and proud locals happy to be celebrating their cherished fête once again.
Once Mass is over, Eric Ciotti, a fresh-faced, 42-year-old local member of parliament, bounds forward to speak. "We in Nice will do absolutely everything we can to keep our precious traditions alive in our beautiful, thriving port, not only for ourselves but for all our visitors who come here every year," he says. He proudly points out the flags - European and French - billowing side by side behind him.
Afterwards I thank him, speaking as an Irishman delighted to see such traditions flourishing. He seems genuinely pleased, and as the procession returns to the local 19th-century church, Notre Dame du Port, he says emphatically: "Thank you." I feel he is thanking all the Irish who come here.
Soon, back on the quay, two long tables filled with iced soft drinks offered by the mayor are surrounded by a congregation thirsty in the salty sea air. We drink, we talk.
Few places possess the allure of the Riviera, but all over France this day is celebrated enthusiastically every year, even if some revellers are not too sure they're commemorating the bodily assumption of the Blessed Virgin into heaven. France's dominant religion is still Catholicism, but if you ask people about this many will agree they are "Catholic" before adding, "but I don't practise".
This could be regarded as an example of typically French logic, but it also reflects the country's separation of church and state, which has been law since 1905, though its origins may go back to the French revolution of 1789.
Nice itself became part of France only in 1860 - to the fury of Giuseppe Garibaldi, the great champion of Italian independence, who was born in the port in 1807, beneath the historic archaeological site of the Chateau Hill. This hill is the spot where Bloomsday is celebrated every year by Riviera Memories, an association recently created by Ann Kelly-Bonnefoy, a long-time Irish resident of the region.
Now, though, the stunning Riviera light that entranced artists such as Matisse and Picasso is fading, teasing a darkening veil up the ochre and red fronts of the apartment buildings and houses that line the port. From these facades, reflected golden light still curls on the lightly rippling water, but the approaching sunset will soon bring the backdrop of darkness needed for the blazing fireworks display that will sizzle and flash across the Riviera sky.